Feet & Heads

Once I dreamed that I died. These solar panels resemble my dream. By  3444753 .  pixabay.com I was lying in a hospital and I was thinking, with that feeling on top that those who know they are at the end of their life should have, what is that of dying... I found it fantastic and terrifyingly curious. "What's that about dying?", "Will there be anything else?". I was thinking about the possibility of continuity, of a life after death, but at the same time I was wondering "what if everything, EVERYTHING, ended here?". I remember there were people moving and that there were voices in that dream, maybe doctors? I do not remember if I was on the floor or on a stretcher, I do remember that I was a stretcher, or lying on the floor, looking up. I was realizing that in a few seconds I was going to die. I really found it curious to perceive the end, that things from a point were not going to be equal to everything previously known in a life and that the

Reading to Krishnamurti (in Tradition and Revolution) I realize the futility of analyzing things psychologically. This conclusion in this regard is not because I have understood the whole movement of what it means to think, analyze, reflect, etc., but it arises from the few and almost null results that I have obtained from analyzing myself. Blind, I realize things by colliding with them and understand "blindness" precisely because of everything that moves around... White brick wall,  piqsels.com . Even with the warning that the analysis would not be adequate to uncover ignorance, many times (if not all) the absence of results (understanding, or whatever) has led me to think that the intellect was again used to reach a point, obtaining a pitiful conclusion and invisibly already predetermined. There are processes, elements and psychic behaviors of mine that are very well seen and reflected, so sometimes it was extremely strange that, knowing their internal mechanism, I